Hermione's story
by Kiara Renee
Summary: Hermione has a REASON to be a know-it-all. My first attempt at a deep story. Please read and review!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters, except for those I made up. If you can't tell which ones I made up and which ones were created by the great J.K. Rowling, well, then, I pity you. Not really, but you should know which ones are real and which I thought up.  
  
Hermione sat by the river, breathing hard. She closed her eyes and rocked to and fro. She was angry, upset, sad. Sometimes it felt like Hermione didn't exist-she was just an empty shell, wearing a Hermione mask. She felt so alone at Hogwarts sometimes, but she couldn't go back. Her old life was gone now, and she could never turn around again. Especially not after her silent vow. (Warning! Warning! Flashback!)  
  
Hermione was 8 years old, happy and carefree. There was a forest near her house, and she would go play there. One day, she was playing and saw a boy racing past her. She was puzzled, wondering why he didn't want to play-tag or something. It was only when she looked back on the day years ago that she remembered the fear, the panic, in the boy's eyes.  
  
Suddenly, she saw a man coming. He was tall, and she never saw his face. When he came, it was like an icy shadow passed over her, over everything. He walked to her, and Hermione felt cold.  
  
"Move," he said. He was almost silent, but she knew somehow to listen. She slowly backed away, no idea what was going on. The man made rope appear from a stick he was holding-she found out later it was a wand- and dragged the boy to him. The rope vanished. The boy screamed and tried to run, but the man yelled something, and the boy fell to the ground. Then the man was gone, and Hermione knew the boy was dead. She was screaming, running, her heart pounding like crazy. She never told anyone what happened, but made a silent vow to make the boy's death not in vain. She would find out who he was, and who killed him. Maybe, she could save one more person.  
  
It had been 9 years, and Hermione seemed no closer to finding out anything. She did not know a single thing about the boy, nor about the man who killed him. She was still determined to try and find out what happened, but she did not see how she could find out. She couldn't remember anything specific, what anyone looked like, what clothes they were wearing, she couldn't even say the color of the boy's hair. She knew that her task was impossible, but she felt that she had to keep trying.  
  
When Hermione was 11, she found out that she was a witch. She was extremely happy, because she had realized that the stick was truly a wand. For some reason, she thought that if she knew magic, she could find out who the people were. Her parents were happy, of course, but they did not understand why she seemed ecstatic.  
  
Hermione was nervous and very excited in the weeks before she went to Hogwarts. She studied her books over and over, finally memorizing the text. She practiced spell after spell, learning everything she possibly could. She read every book she could find on magic, determined to find out who the strange people were that day. Hermione was not a know-it-all by nature, nor was she extraordinarily intelligent. Sure, she had gotten good grades, but she had never tried in school the way she tried at magic. She was disappointed when September 1 rolled around and she still had not found what she seeked.  
  
Hermione was unhappy at Hogwarts. For some reason, she believed that people would like her if she showed that even though she was a muggle, she still knew magic just as well as everyone else. She showed off to people, not realizing she was coming off as a know-it-all. She made few friends, and people generally avoided her.  
  
As the years passed, Hermione became almost frantic in her search. She would pretend to be working on homework, homework that had really been completed hours ago, while searching for who the boy was. She tried just about everything, but found nothing that could help her in her search. She almost gave up, but her childish vow kept her searching through long hours and tired eyes. 


	2. Harry finds out

Disclaimer: Not mine, except the ones that are  
  
One night, Harry walked in on Hermione studying at 3:00 in the morning. She would slowly turn the pages, and it didn't seem that she was actually doing the work.  
  
"What on Earth are you doing, up Hermione?" asked Harry, smiling and shaking his head.  
  
"I should ask the same of you," Hermione responded.  
  
"Well-I'm actually up, if you must know, because I'm hungry. Much as you hate it, house-elves make scrumdiddlyumptious food all day long. Ron was coming to get some too, but he fell back asleep, I guess and-anyway, what are you doing up?"  
  
Trying desperately to avoid the subject, she answered, "Harry, that's wrong! The poor house-elves-they work so hard, and they don't get any pay or anything! Why are you so horrible to them?"  
  
"I'm not horrible, I'm hungry. And you still haven't answered my question."  
  
"Fine," Hermione sighed, "If you must know, I'm uh, doing homework!"  
  
"You mean the homework that you finished at 8:00? That homework?"  
  
"Of course not, silly, I uh just remembered about the essay due in Potions that is um due in a week and I uh have to finish." She trailed off, knowing how stupid she sounded.  
  
"Oh, I see, you're doing Potions homework in a book called-" Harry grabbed the book "-1000 Most Famous Murdered Wizards?"  
  
"I was trying to see if your parents were in there?" Hermione asked, searching desperately for a good reason. Harry glowered.  
  
"You have to tell me what's really going on. I'll just sit here, and wait. You don't want me to get up this morning without sleep OR food, do you?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "Fine," she said. "I'll tell you what's going on. But you can't breathe a word of it to anyone, even Ron. And no interruptions, got it?"  
  
"Err," said Harry, unsure if he was allowed to speak right then or not.  
  
"Good. Here's what happened. When I was 8-long before I found out I was a witch-I saw a wizard being murdered. A YOUNG wizard, Harry! He couldn't have been more than 16 or 17!! He was young, and he was dead, and- " Hermione couldn't finish for her sobbing.  
  
Harry stared at her. "You saw someone being murdered when you were EIGHT?" Unsure of what to do, Harry put a comforting arm awkwardly on Hermione's shoulder.  
  
"And you've been trying to figure out who he was?"  
  
"Yes," said Hermione, relieved that she actually told someone, finally.  
  
"Listen," said Harry. "I'll help. I know a lot of people in the wizarding world, maybe they can-"  
  
"Remember," said Hermione fiercely, "You promised you wouldn't tell anyone!"  
  
"Oh," said Harry. "Right. But maybe I can still do something."  
  
"Suit yourself," Hermione answered, shrugging. "Just don't tell anyone. Ever."  
  
"And you have to go to bed. It's 3:30 in the morning! You've got to be exhausted!" He practically dragged Hermione out of her seat, and she slowly walked towards her dormitory. Harry tried to think of what he could do. 


	3. Hermione's relief

Disclaimer: Mostly J.K. Rowling  
  
The next morning, Harry woke up tired, hungry and confused. He had been unable to sleep because he was trying to decide what to do, and he never HAD gotten the food from the house-elves. He sat up, groaning and rubbing his head.  
  
"Blimey!" said Ron. "You look like you slept in a tree! You look AWFUL!"  
  
"Thanks Ron," said Harry, slowly getting out of bed. Since he had been tossing and turning all night, the sheets were bunched up. When Harry put on his glasses and looked in the mirror, he saw that his hair look horrible- even worse than how it normally looked.  
  
Meanwhile, Hermione was nervous. She usually trusted Harry, but this, well, this was far more important than any secret she'd ever told him before. She gulped. She was terrified that he would tell the whole school and-well, what was wrong with that, a voice inside her reasoned. What was so terrible about other people helping her? She shook her head. She wasn't sure, except that maybe someone there would have known the now dead wizard. If they found out, they would make SURE that no one discovered any secrets.  
  
There was another reason. Consciously, Hermione didn't think it at the time, but truly it was important to her.  
  
If everyone were searching, the dead wizard and his murderer would be like a publicity scheme. Everyone would talk about it, and they wouldn't really care about him, they would just be looking for the sake of an adventure. Hermione didn't know the boy, but she didn't want his death turned into a joke, almost. She wanted him to be thought of as a person, not something that people thought about when they were bored. She wanted to find out what happened, but she didn't want it to turn into a shallow novel mystery.  
  
Harry and Hermione came down, yawning and rubbing sleep from their eyes. Ron shook his head.  
  
"Boy, you guys look like you were up all night! What's going on here anyway?"  
  
Hermione inwardly sighed with relief. So Harry hadn't told Ron. . . yet.  
  
"Nothing's going on, Ron. We're just tired! We'll meet you downstairs in a minute."  
  
"K, Harry, but I seriously think something whacked in going on here."  
  
After an eternity, it seemed, Ron left. Harry stood there awkwardly, scratching his head.  
  
"Um," he said.  
  
"It was a, uh, lie," Hermione told him. "I was tired, and bored, and my overactive imagination and sleepy mind were in a conspiracy against me and made up some dumb story to tell you. It's not true, I know now, but last night it was like. . . everything was real. I guess I dreamed that, you ever have a dream where it seems real during the night, then in the morning it's obviously fake? It's like that. Just like that."  
  
"You know," Harry said, smiling, "I half-wish I could believe that! But you know I don't, and it's obvious why. You WERE telling the truth, so you can't make me not believe it. And don't worry about me telling anyone. I don't know why you care so much, but I won't breathe so much as a word about it even to Ron."  
  
Hermione could tell he was being sincere. She let out a sigh of relief.  
  
"Let's go to breakfast," she told him.  
  
A/N sorry this chapter is so short, it's just that I can't really add on to this particular part after the last sentence. I'll try to keep the chapters coming pretty regularly. Thanks to all my reviewers! 


	4. Ron's error

Disclaimer: Mostly not mine  
  
Harry and Hermione looked very strange at breakfast. They kept glancing at each other, and barely ate any food. Ron looked at them, puzzled.  
  
"What's going on?" he asked, yet again.  
  
Hermione paused and chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. How many ways were there, exactly, to say "nothing's going on" when really something WAS going on?  
  
"Nothing, Ron," she told him slowly. He shook his head in response.  
  
"I don't know why you guys aren't eating. The food today is absolutely scrumptious. Is yours undercooked or something? Harry?"  
  
"Wha-" said Harry, snapping out of almost a trance, "oh no, the food's fine. It's just, um," he stopped for a moment, trying to think of a good reason he wasn't eating, "It's just remember-we were supposed to go get food last night from the house-elves. You fell back asleep, I think, but I went and got food, so I'm not so hungry this morning."  
  
"He gave me some too," Hermione said, stepping in quickly. "I know that usually I'm opposed to forcing the poor house-elves to make food all night, but when he came back up, the food just smelled so delicious that I simply had to eat some!"  
  
"I wish I'd come with you guys," said Ron, grinning. "If it was good enough for Hermione to eat, then wow!"  
  
Harry and Hermione exchanged quick smiles. Their lie had fooled Ron! Hermione felt like she could dance. Her secret was still safe! They finished breakfast without other problems.  
  
After breakfast, Ron raced to catch up with Hermione.  
  
"Hermione, I. . . I know!"  
  
Hermione felt her heart race. Trying to sound casual, she said, "Know what Ron?"  
  
Ron smiled. He looked around, making sure that nobody could hear him. "Your-secret," he whispered.  
  
Hermione almost fainted. She felt like her life was over. "What do you think my secret is?" She knew that she didn't sound very intelligent, but she had to know. How on Earth did Ron find out?  
  
"It's quite obvious, really, I don't even know why I didn't guess before. Well, when I saw you and Harry I was sure. . . "  
  
"Sure of WHAT?" Hermione asked, blood pounding in her ears.  
  
"Sure that," Ron paused for a moment, "you like Harry! And he likes you back!"  
  
"Oh," said Hermione, laughing with relief.  
  
"What?" asked Ron, confused. He was positive that she liked him. They wanted a "moment alone" before breakfast, and they hardly ate, and they kept giving each other little glances. If they didn't like each other, then what was going on?  
  
Hermione thought for a minute. If Ron believed that she and Harry liked each other, then he wouldn't try to figure out what was going on. He would let them be, and Hermione's secret would remain safe. Then again, if Harry found out that Hermione said that she liked him, then what would he do? Would he care? Would he think that Hermione REALLY liked him? She had no idea what to say.  
  
"Um, of course! I can't believe we were so, erm, obvious about it! Just don't tell. . . other people, ok?"  
  
"Of course not!" said Ron happily. He was glad he had finally figured what on Earth was going on. He sighed. Now he could stop worrying about it.  
  
Ron walked away, an easy, careless walk. Hermione shook her head. How long had it been since she had been careless-truly careless? She knew the answer to that. It had been 9 years, 9 long years since she could be happy, since she could go a day, an hour, a second, without desperately worrying.  
  
Suddenly, she saw Harry approaching. She ran up to him.  
  
"Harry, just play along, alright? Just pretend, please?"  
  
"Pretend WHAT? What's going on here?"  
  
Hermione stopped. Usually, she was so careful about what she said- now Harry would think she was crazy. No matter. "Well you see, you know I don't want Ron to find out"  
  
"Yes, I know! What happened?"  
  
"And Ron, he guessed what was going on, he thought that we were, you know, well, we liked each other! And I pretended it was true because then he wouldn't try to figure out what was going on, because he would think he already knew, ok?"  
  
Harry digested this bit of information for a moment. "So, you let Ron believe that we-liked each other?"  
  
Hermione looked up at him, trying to read the look on his face. "Well yes, because-"  
  
"That's fine, I understand. So if Ron asks, I do like you?"  
  
"Yes!" said Hermione, immensely relieved.  
  
Harry grinned, and they started out towards Care of Magical Creatures. 


End file.
